


An idiots guide to hair care

by BigFatBumblebee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Clueless Obi-Wan, Dad!Qui-Gon, Distinct lack of plot, Fluff, Gen, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Pensive Qui-Gon, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 01:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20018050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigFatBumblebee/pseuds/BigFatBumblebee
Summary: With long hair for a mission, Padawan Kenobi's first lesson in hair care leads to a nice bonding moment with his Master.





	An idiots guide to hair care

It was to the sound of their shower and some faint humming that Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn entered the flat he shared with his eighteen-year-old Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He smiled and kicked off his boots with a sign, letting his robe crumple on the floor by the door. The council were making the most of having a Master swordsman back in the temple, and it had been a long afternoon of teaching classes of all levels in the salles. He was looking forward to putting his feet up and having one last night of peace before he and his Padawan set off on their next mission first thing in the morning. Qui-Gon smiled, it was going to be a good challenge for them both, but at least he was suitably prepared and had been for a while. Unlike his Padawan.

They were setting off in the morning for a small planet in the inner rim, Degeria, whose King needed help on a boarder dispute. On the surface the brief seemed a little beneath the Jinn/Kenobi team’s substantial skill and ability, but the interesting thing about Degeria was its rather…quirky local customs and traditions (“Master look at all this, they’re complete crackpots!”). The team were among the most well-travelled Jedi in the temple, and Obi-Wan’s gift for languages and culture paired with Qui-Gon’s adaptability made them ideally suited for the job. Much to Obi-Wan’s chagrin.

The reason for the young man’s consternation was one unusual custom in particular; people who were actively looking for a mate on Degeria wore their hair short, whilst those who had settled wore long hair as a sign of maturity. Obi-Wan’s traditional Padawan haircut would mark him as a virile young man who was open to coupling, and the Degerians would have no qualms about showing their interest and cutting right to the chase. With Obi-Wan and his short hair along, the odds of them getting anything actually done on their mission were low.

Qui-Gon’s smile grew as he remembered explaining this to his apprentice. He had taken no small amount of enjoyment in watching the shy young man turn an incredible shade of pink. Obi-Wan was usually so composed, with a quick remark or a flippant joke always on the tip of his tongue. It was rather gratifying to see him fluster and blush once in a while and all it took was even a vague reference to sex.

Based on his research Qui-Gon had rather horrifying visions of returning to their lodgings on Degeria after a long day of meetings to find naked young people waiting for his apprentice. He had promptly left the archives that morning to find his inconveniently good-looking Padawan and had all but dragged him down to the healers to transform his appearance and grow his hair with nano-technology.

In fairness, once he had explained his reasoning to his bewildered apprentice, Obi-Wan had jumped fully on board. They had separated for the afternoon after the quick procedure left the Padawan with what Qui-Gon could only describe as a mane of fiery red hair. Redder than it looked when it was cropped, it made him look like some kind of exotic being, bringing out the crystal blue of his eyes and the paleness of his skin. It occurred to Qui-Gon that he may have made the situation on Degeria easier but, judging by the Padawans and Knights staring at the self-conscious young man as they made their way through the temple, he may have made his life a little harder. He was so grateful that if his apprentice had indeed discovered the joys of sex yet, he was very discrete. Though Qui-Gon had his suspicions about Obi-Wan and one Quinlan Vos. He scowled deeply at the thought.

Getting up off the sofa Qui-Gon stretched and shuffled over to the kitchen to put the kettle on, it was time for tea. He cocked his head and tuned in to his bond with Obi-Wan intending to call him over. It would be nice to go over their mission prep together over a pot of Sapir, they might not be able to for a long time. Degerian’s didn’t really go in for tea, undoubtably their most bizarre cultural characteristic. 

What he felt on the other end of the bond gave him pause though. Before shields were hastily put up he had definitely felt a pang of distress in the force from his Padawan. He frowned and headed slowly over to Obi-Wan’s closed bedroom door and knocked.

“Padawan…Would you like some tea?” he asked lightly, reluctant to push further. Obi-Wan was a very private person, and Qui-Gon was happy to respect that most of the time.

“No thank you Master” came the short, slightly strained response. Qui-Gon’s frown deepened, he had never known Obi-Wan to turn down tea.

“is…is everything alright Obi-Wan?” he asked cautiously, ear on the door for a clue to the problem beyond.

“Yes thank you Master everything…Ow! Everything’s fine. Sorry I’ll be…just a moment” the Padawan stammered out from behind the door. Qui-Gon began to worry, and tuned in to their bond once again, pushing ever so gently on Obi-Wan’s shields and getting a sense of frustration, embarrassment and pain.

 _Oh force._ Qui-Gon cringed, all kind of possibilities filling his head. He had managed seven years living and working closely with Obi-Wan without having to face any of the awkward, embarrassing incidents that usually come with raising teenage boys.

Well, they had had a good run, but scarring or not his Padawan needed him. He took a deep breath and put his hand on the door handle.

“Padawan, I’m coming in” he warned and braced himself.

The sight that greeted him on the other side of the door would stay with him for a long time, and for a moment he just stared.

Sitting on the bed, a look of utter dismay on his face, Obi-Wan peered at him from beneath a mass of soggy, tangled hair sticking up at all angles, a rats nets falling down his shoulders. He was holding a small comb in one hand and the other was pulling fruitlessly at the knotted strands. He flushed with embarrassment and looked at his Master helplessly.

“Hi Master” he said quietly. Qui-Gon continued staring. Of all the possibilities he had imagined this was not one of them.

“Obi-Wan what in the galaxy…?”

The Padawan looked down at the comb in his hand, embarrassment leaking in to the force around him.

“I…it’s not!” he started frustratedly then sighed, gathering himself. “I seem to be having some trouble” he said calmly, grabbing a handful of the wet copper tangles on his head. 

“Evidently” Qui-Gon snorted as he walked over to Obi-Wan, getting a closer look at the problem. Obi-Wan scowled.

“I don’t suppose you have any Masterly wisdom that might help? Or a razor I could use?” the uncomfortable young Jedi asked sarcastically. His Master arched an eyebrow.

“You are _not_ shaving it off.” More scowling and a frustrated quick tug on the hair with the comb. Qui-Gon batted his hands away and gently took hold of a lock of red hair.

“What have you washed it with?” he enquired, still looking at the strands trying to figure out the problem.

“Just soap, like I normally do! I don’t know why it’s gone so awful!” Obi-Wan moaned.

“Soap?” Qui-Gon questioned, he had a good idea of where this was going, and he may have also identified a gap in his Padawan’s extensive knowledge. Obi-Wan nodded.

“Yes! Obviously I had to use quite a lot because there’s so much of it, but I don’t understand the problem!” Qui-Gon resisted the urge to facepalm and tried not to sound too patronising.

“Obi-Wan…you need to use shampoo and conditioner on your hair to keep it healthy, especially when it’s long. Soap just strips it of all it’s oils and creates…” he trailed off as understanding dawned on his companion’s face.

“A giant mess” Obi-Wan finished flatly. His Master snorted and took the comb in his hands, examining it.

“You also can’t use a comb like this, the teeth are too small and you’ll just end up breaking the strands of hair”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan looked at him blankly, then at the mess cascading down his shoulders soaking his undershirt. Qui-Gon took pity on him.

“Would you like me to help you, my young Padawan?” Qui-Gon offered gently. Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped and he sighed.

“Yes please” he answered, defeated. The older Jedi smiled.

“Go and sit on a meditation cushion in front of the sofa please and wait for me whilst I grab the necessary equipment” he instructed, suddenly business-like. And burst out laughing when Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Relax Padawan, I have a more suitable brush, some hair ties and some spray that will help” he clarified. His Padawan looked relieved, and he and his tangled red mop stood up and went in to the living room whilst Qui-Gon went to rummage in his own room. It really was remis of him to neglect to educate his student properly before lengthening his hair, and he was beginning to feel a little guilty.

He remembered when he was a new knight and had started growing his own hair. Tahl had staged something of an intervention. Cornering him in his rooms she had handed him a proper brush (after smacking him with it) a bottle of conditioning spray, and showed him how to tie his hair up in a sensible bun at the back of his head, with the advice that he would never make it to Masterhood if he looked like a Correlian cave man, and if things started living in his hair she would never go near him again.

He smiled at the memory.

Entering the living room again his Padawan had perched on the large cushion. Obi-Wan was still making attempts to untangle his hair with his fingers and wincing, giving his Master a sheepish look as he came closer and took a seat on the sofa behind the young man.

“Come closer, close your eyes” he instructed, and gently gathered up the damp mess. They were going to be here a while.

Obi-Wan shifted closer and obediently closed his eyes whilst Qui-Gon sprayed a liberal, very liberal, amount of the conditioning spray all over Obi-Wan and most of the surrounding sofa and carpet.

“Master!” Obi-Wan spluttered a little, spitting out conditioner indignantly and turned to look at his Master accusingly. “Ow” Qui-Gon gave him a gentle whack with the brush and pushed his head back around.

He started carefully separating the strands of hair, grabbing a handful in one hand and gently teasing the ends with the brush in the other, gradually working his way up.

“Sorry” he muttered, when his Padawan flinched and hissed. He thought for a moment, every moment can be a teaching moment, after all.

“Occasionally, Padawan mine, there will be times when you need to reach a meditative state under less than ideal circumstances” he began, continuing to battle with Obi-Wan’s hair. He felt the young man stiffen in suspicion. No doubt he knew his Master’s “teaching” voice by now.

“Master…” Obi-Wan said slowly, attempting to turn his head to look behind him. “You want me to meditate? Right now?” he asked incredulously

“Yes indeed Young One.” Qui-Gon said smiling, pushing Obi-Wan’s head back around.

“While you’re yanking on my - Ow! Hair?” he winced as his Master gave a particularly vigorous tug.

“Sorry” he muttered again. “But yes” he answered briskly, continuing to brush. With a slight huff Obi-Wan grumpily shifted himself in to a more settled position and dutifully closed his eyes, hands on his lap palms upwards, and began to gradually deepen his connection to the force.

With his shields down Qui-Gon felt more of his student’s bright and peaceful presence in the force and allowed it to wash over him. Obi-Wan was struggling to find his equilibrium with the constant distraction and slight pain.

“Peace Obi-Wan” he prompted. Extending his own presence in the force he sent calming waves at his apprentice, helping him to reach a meditative state. He smiled when he received a quick burst of gratitude and continued gently working on the now slightly less tangled mess as he felt Obi-Wan sink in to the force and begin meditating.

The comfortable calm silence stretched on as Qui-Gon continued waging war on his companions tangled mop, gradually getting it back to a state that resembled human hair. It was an oddly therapeutic task, taking a section at a time, carefully teasing the strands and working his way up to Obi-Wan’s scalp. He found himself humming softly as he worked, enjoying the moment.

It had been a long time since he had been able to help the young man in front of him like this. Of course they were constantly training and he was always teaching Obi-Wan, but this was a nice closeness that Qui-Gon, as a very physical person, liked. There was something about making something better with his own two hands that he found immensely satisfying. 

The minutes went by and he felt himself growing pensive as he worked. His Padawan had always been very independent, Qui-Gon remembered how hard Obi-Wan worked to prove himself worthy of his new Master at the start of their partnership and still felt intensely guilty. He hadn’t been the right kind of Master for an unsure thirteen-year-old. He hadn’t given Obi-Wan enough praise and reassurance back then, he had been too wrapped up in his own losses and failings, and the young man’s self-esteem had never quite recovered.

Whilst they had a much happier and healthier relationship now, after much work and understanding from both sides, the need to prove he could do everything on his own was an attitude Qui-Gon had never managed to shake out of his industrious apprentice. One of Qui-Gon’s frequent worries was that Obi-Wan’s eagerness to please, paired with his inability to ask for help, was going to get him in to trouble one day. He had a habit of working himself to exhaustion when he had a goal to achieve or a problem to solve.

Whilst he was far ahead of his peers in terms of skill, ability and intelligence, Obi-Wan struggled with the concept that he was good enough. It was a frequent topic of meditation for them both and one of the few barriers to his Knighting he had yet to overcome.

 _‘But we still have time_ he thought shaking himself out of his musings. Running his fingers through the waist length wet hair he realised it was tangle free, and now fell like a waterfall down Obi-Wan’s back. His task was complete, but he was at loathe to break the spell. He continued running his fingers through the mass in front of him, starting to focus more on digging his fingers ever so slightly in to the redhead’s scalp, rubbing in circles and applying subtle pressure. He felt his Padawan react unconsciously to the gesture, relaxing more with his head resting in his Masters hands.

It was nice to see him so relaxed, Qui-Gon reflected. Face slack, eyes shut and breathing deeply, when he listened he could hear tiny snores. The Master paused, there was peace in communing with the force and then there was…his apprentice was fast asleep! He fought back a burst of laughter at the unlikely situation. His capable and dedicated eighteen-year-old Senior Padawan had fallen asleep in the middle of meditating like a youngling. It was adorable. Qui-Gon wished he had a holo camera.

He continued his ministrations for a while longer, enjoying the closeness and giving his obviously exhausted apprentice a chance for rest. He was far too old for Qui-Gon to send him to bed these days, but he made a mental note to facilitate more opportunities for Obi-Wan to rest, and to encourage him to have a few early nights.

When his back started to protest he cleared his throat loudly, and shook Obi-Wan’s shoulder gently to wake him up.

“Hmm? Uhh ‘ster?” Obi-Wan said unintelligently as blue eyes fluttered open with a snort and he started to sit up.

“Good morning sleepy head” Qui-Gon said in a cheerful tone, grinningly widely at the confused Jedi looking up at him.

“What?” Obi-Wan paused and then flushed pink when realisation set in “Master I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me!” he said, turning to face his Master, mortified. Qui-Gon snorted and pushed his head back around to look in front of him.

“Think nothing of it Padawan, slips happen and I know you have been busy. We will simply have to practice meditation in the face of distraction more often” he said smartly, separating the hair in to three sections, leaving enough left for the important Padawan braid, and grabbing a hair tie. He felt the equivalent of a groan fill the force around them and smiled.

“Your hair is now significantly less likely to be mistaken for the residence of a Womp-Rat, stay still a moment whilst I plait it” he instructed.

“Thank you very much Master, that feels much better. Heavy though” Obi-Wan touched the top of the long plait in wonder as Qui-Gon quickly finished off his Padawan braid behind his left ear.

“My pleasure Padawan. I’m sure the extra weight will be worth it to avoid awkward situations” he paused and smirked “now then, perhaps it’s time for bed?” The young man coloured again and nodded sheepishly as he stood up stretching. He started shuffling towards the bedroom when he paused.

“What about the mission prep? Should we go over everything?” he questioned with the barest hints of anxiety. Qui-Gon shook his head and waved a hand dismissively.

“I am fully confident you are prepared Obi-Wan, you always are” he smiled fondly “and anything you are worried about we can discuss on the journey” he promised. The young man nodded thoughtfully, no doubt thinking of his questions.

“Thank you Master” the long red plait fell over one shoulder as he bowed to his Master. He certainly cut a striking figure with the addition, and Qui-Gon thought he had succeeded in making his teenaged Padawan look older and more mature. He felt a pang as he realised he would soon be an adult, a Knight who could in fact grow his hair any which way he liked. Hopefully he would now be a little more prepared than Qui-Gon had been.

“Good night Obi-Wan, rest well.” he bid his apprentice good night with a smile.


End file.
